


Friends who cook together...

by Lady3ellewrites



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: (there's a lot of cooking going on), (which i guess is obvious given the title but just to make it clear), AU Yeah AUgust 2020 (Miraculous Ladybug), Adrien Agreste Needs Help, Alternate Universe - College/University, Cooking Lessons, F/M, Matchmakers Alya Césaire & Nino Lahiffe, Post-Canon, Post-Reveal Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Pre-Relationship, Valentine's Day Fluff, adrien is very mushy, because that happens, in between two cooking scenes, is it cliché to declare your love on valentine's day?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:46:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25805341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady3ellewrites/pseuds/Lady3ellewrites
Summary: After Hawkmoth's defeat, Adrien Agreste finally gets a taste of freedom as he moves from the Mansion to his own flat, and from Lycée to University.He relies a little too much on food delivery for Marinette's taste, though.Fic cross-posted on Tumblr (@2manyfandoms2count) for ML AU yeah August 2020!
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 62
Kudos: 230





	1. Lesson 1 - Ratatouille

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Marinette discovers Adrien's awful eating habits and decides to take action.

Adrien Agreste was the perfect man. Good-looking, hard-working, charming, he was the prime example of the son-in-law every parent wanted, and the people his age who didn't want to be him wanted to date him.  


Marinette Dupain-Cheng wouldn't deny she might be classified in the latter category, although less so than when she was younger. She was good friends with the model now. Voluntarily so. You didn’t fight and defeat Paris’ number one villains for years, growing from a teenager into a young adult together, without getting close. Their respective crushes on each other had faded over time, but it didn’t mean they would’ve said no if all the circumstances aligned, although they wouldn’t have admitted it out loud.  


The one thing Adrien Agreste wasn’t, though, was a good cook. Not that he didn’t have everything he could possibly need in his kitchen. The apartment he now lived in, although a huge step down from the Mansion that had once been his home (but what wouldn’t be), was still a lot bigger, and a lot more comfortable than what a normal student should have been able to afford.  


It was a lot better equipped, too.  


Marinette had told him the contractors were abusing his trust by installing things that were way more expensive than they ought to be, knowing he wouldn’t double check, but he’d waved her concerns away. With his father’s demise, he’d just wanted to move out as quickly as possible to avoid the crowds of paparazzi, and if signing a very large cheque could provide him with the knowledge the workers wouldn’t blab, then so be it. He couldn’t bring himself to sell the Mansion despite the knowledge it had been Hawkmoth’s lair the whole time -there were too many memories associated with his mother there- but he’d had some offers to rent it out for movie settings which would definitely cover the costs of keeping it, as well as his rent. He’d looked into his finances and put all the money he’d earned as a model in a bank account, and donated the rest to a fund to help Akuma victims. There was no way he was keeping his father’s dirty money when so many people had suffered at his hands.  


Since then, Adrien had fallen into a nice little routine as he moved from Lycée to University. He made the most of his freedom by exploring every nook and cranny of Paris without anyone being able to say anything about it. No curfews, no limitations, but for his own tiredness and others’ private property, of course.  


It left little time for him to learn basic cooking skills. He was often too tired to make anything when he came back from his nocturnal meanderings, so he went for the easy solution: food delivery. There were so many restaurants nearby he could’ve eaten something different every night for a month and still not have gone through all of the options. It was more diverse than anything he’d ever eaten, and it suited him just fine.  


Little did he know that this habit would be disrupted by his best friend moving in next door.  


Marinette had been looking for a new flat. Not that she didn’t enjoy living with her parents, but she found herself wanting a little more privacy now that she was at University. The reveal that she was Ladybug had brought a lot of attention to the Tom and Sabine bakery, which was good, but a lot of it was journalists prowling around in the hopes of getting an exclusive interview with her. She was tired of being pretty much mauled anytime she left the house, and although she could easily leave via the rooftops as Ladybug, she refused to let them dictate how and when she could get in and out. Which is why, when she’d seen the words “ _à louer_ ” on a window of Adrien’s building as she visited him for their weekly game night, she didn’t think twice about calling the number. Adrien had been a step ahead of her, so the owners were expecting her call. A week later, she had officially moved into the flat across from his.  


She hadn’t paid much attention to his habits at first. She was too busy settling in, and with all the planned evenings with Nino and Alya, plus the ones with the Miracuclass students who remained in Paris, she didn’t see how late he came back at night, and ordering in didn’t seem out of place. What better than a pizza for poker night? Or sushi for movie night? It was _easy_.  


As winter settled in, though, and nights out dwindled to once every fortnight, she noticed the ballet of scooters and bikes that came almost at a fixed time every night. Generally when she was about to fall asleep, doing a grand job at waking her up. Groggily stalking up to the window one evening, she’d noticed Adrien meet the delivery person as he came back from wherever he’d been, paying his due and coming up. She’d dismissed it due to midterm season approaching, but exams had come and gone and things hadn’t changed. She kept an eye out, and after two additional weeks of seeing Adrien collect a brown paper bag, knowing fully well that he ate a sandwich every midday thanks to her father’s well-meaning gossip, she’d decided to take action. She couldn’t let her partner have such a questionable diet.  


“What's it going to be tonight?” She asked, leaning arms crossed against her door frame one night as he appeared on the landing.  


Adrien froze at the top of the stairs and looked at her like a deer caught in headlights.  


“Er…“ He raked his mind for something, anything that would sound even remotely healthy, but nothing came. He sighed defeatedly. “None pizza with left beef.” He mumbled, his head lowered guiltily. He’d seen the meme the night before, and had wanted to try it out.  


“What?”  


He repeated a little louder.  


“Okay that’s it, you’re coming over to my place for dinner.”  


He knew from her tone of voice there’d be no arguing with her, so he sheepishly followed her inside her flat, still clutching his pizza box. He wasn’t too unhappy about the outcome, if he was honest. Marinette was a good cook. He’d have a nice meal tonight.  


“What about the pizza?” He asked weakly.  


“We can use it as… bread, or something.” The girl suggested, crinkling her nose at the thought. For someone who came from a long line of bakers and was part Italian, calling the contents of the box pizza or even bread seemed inherently wrong.  


Adrien trailed a little behind her as she walked towards her kitchen, marveling at what she’d done with the place.  


Marinette’s apartment mirrored his in terms of structure, but whereas his decoration was very minimalistic, hers was a lot more eclectic, without looking cluttered. Her furniture wasn’t a set, yet fit together very well and gave the space a cozy feel. The painted walls, as well as the coloured posters, curtains, rugs and cushions made it feel very homey. He wanted nothing more than sit on her sofa and snuggle under the knitted blanket with her to watch a movie.  


Platonically, of course.  


Adrien walked into the kitchen and was greeted by the pastel yellow of the walls and warm lighting. Her utensils provided nice splashes of colour that brightened up the room. He particularly appreciated the Ladybug-themed colander that was drying next to the sink.  


“If you look in that bottom draw,” she indicated with her foot before reaching for a jar of dried rice in a cupboard, “you should find some saucepans, if you could take two out please, Chaton.”  


He obliged, resisting the temptation to lift her up to help her. He knew she wouldn't appreciate it.  


“Can I put you in charge of cooking the rice?” She asked, handing him the packet. Adrien accepted it but looked at her quizzically.  


“Sure!” He replied excitedly. “Do you have the instructions anywhere?”  


Marinette stopped in the middle of washing vegetables she’d taken out of the fridge and squinted her eyes as she gauged whether or not he was joking. He seemed genuinely at loss for what to do.  


“Have you never prepared rice before?”  


“No?”  


“It’s like pasta.” His clueless face made her sigh defeatedly. “You’ve never made pasta either, haven’t you.”  


“Does instant ramen count? Or pasta boxes?” He flinched slightly.  


“How you’re still alive and actually fit is beyond me.” She rolled her eyes. “Right, I guess we really are starting with the basics then. Consider this lesson number one: pour some water in that saucepan.”  


She moved away from the sink to allow him to access it, but stayed close enough to be able to turn the tap off for him. He clearly had no idea of how much water was needed.  


“Right, now put the saucepan on the hob, and turn it on.” She saw a smirk spread on his face. “And don’t even think about making a joke, I know what it sounded like!”  


“You’re no fun, Bugaboo.” He pouted, pressing the button she indicated.  


“Add a little salt, and then we’ll just let it come to a boil.”  


Next, she handed him a chopping board and tomatoes. She hesitated before giving him a knife. “Can I trust you not to cut yourself?”  


“Har har.” He grabbed the knife. “Joke’s on you, because salad is actually the only thing I know how to make. How do you want these?”  


She resisted making a comment on how knowing how to make salad wasn't something he really could brag about. “Sliced. We’re making ratatouille.”  


“Ooh, nice!”  


He listened as she talked him through the recipe, impressed by the fact she didn’t need a cookbook to remember how to prepare it. She taught him how to prepare an aubergine, which he could recognise thanks to the emoji, but could not imagine how to bring to an edible form.  


“We just want to sear them in some oil with the courgettes, then we’ll let them cook gently with the rest of the vegetables and the herbs.”  


He’d been quite dainty on the amount of _herbes de Provence_ he’d added, which had prompted her taking his hand and shaking the spice pot to cover the tomatoes with it.  


He looked at her concentrated expression as she stirred the pan and couldn’t help but smile, his hand still hovering above the hob.  


Marinette looked at him inquisitively. “What?”  


“Nothing.” She raised her eyebrows. “I just forgot how cute you are when you’re bossy.”  


Marinette stammered in response, her cheeks pinking. It didn't matter how at ease she felt with Adrien now, she still couldn't take a compliment from him. He grinned and took advantage of her distraction to steal the wooden spoon from her and taste the dish.  


“Authorisation to add a little salt?” He asked, refilling the spoon with ratatouille for her.  


She took it, trying not to focus on the fact his lips had been just where hers were. She let the flavours flood her palet thoughtfully.  


"Authorisation granted."  


She smiled fondly as Adrien excitedly added missing spices to the mix.  


"See? I _am_ a competent cook!" He added with a satisfied smile.  


"Please, you're barely a sous-chef." Marinette snorted. She backtracked her slightly harsh words seeing her partner's pout. "Don't worry though, you'll get the hang of it! It's just a question of practising." She rubbed his back encouragingly. "Would making the plates pretty make you feel better?"  


"I think so." He mock sniffled.  


Marinette made a point of taking out her Chat Noir plates, which she'd been planning on keeping for special occasions. The way Adrien's face lit up upon seeing them made the fact they were her only dishes that couldn't be dishwashed seem irrelevant. Adrien made a mental note to try and find matching Ladybug ones, although he wasn't sure if he would be gifting them to her or keeping them for himself.  


Marinette busied herself with tidying up the kitchen and laying the cutlery as he worked on the presentation. Had her phone been nearby, she would've taken a picture of him as he blepped in concentration.  


"Does this look good enough for _Madame la Chef_?" He asked as he presented the plates to her. He'd positioned the vegetables around the rice so as to make it look like a flower.  


"It's perfect, Chaton." She kissed the top of his head as she passed behind him with a packet of smoked ham. She rolled the slices into little roses and planted them in the rice.  


" _A table_?" She asked as she finally sat down opposite him.  


Adrien dug in before she could say _bon appétit_.  
\---  


When Adrien came home from his morning run a couple of days later, a fresh croissant in hand, he found a conscientiously wrapped package on his doormat. The black polka dots on the field of red were a dead giveaway as to who it was from. He grinned as he picked it up and opened the door.  


Breakfast and washed hands later, he sat on his couch, facing the present. He was torn between tearing the wrapping, or being civilised about it. Before he could choose, Plagg flew nearby and obeyed his cat instincts, swiftly disappearing back into his Camembert cabinet with a grin to avoid his holder's reprimands.  


" _Je sais cuisiner_." He read the title and laughed, holding the book in front of him. It was an old edition, a yellow hardback with a picture of the author on the cover.  


A post-it note stuck out from the top of the book. He opened it to get to the bookmarked recipe.  


_For Adrien - saw this and thought of you! Since you're so keen on instructions, this might do the trick! Feel free to use it often ;-)  
Love, Marinette  
P.S.: I suggest we try this recipe next! _  


Adrien read through the page, and felt his stomach grumble. He was very pleased at the thought that something had reminded her of him and that she'd bought it for him. The "love" and the fact she was obviously looking forward to repeating their cooking experience were added bonuses.  


He himself could hardly wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this chapter! There might be more in the future...
> 
>  **French vocabulary:**  
>  - _A louer_ : to rent  
> - _A table_ : in this context, let's eat  
> - _Je sais cuisiner_ : I know how to cook (title of a real cookbook by Ginette Mathiot)
> 
> Find me on Tumblr @2manyfandoms2count :)


	2. Lesson 2 - Crêpes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Alya, Marinette discovers her feelings for Adrien might not be as gone as she thought.

Like Adrien, Marinette really liked to stroll atop Paris’ rooftops at night, especially now that there weren’t any responsibilities tied to the activity. There was just something about roaming around with the City of Lights at your feet, far from threats of being mugged or followed in slightly darker streets. 

Not that Ladybug wouldn’t have been able to take potential aggressors, mind you. But it was nice to be at peace, away from the tourist crowds.

She was rarely as happy, however, as when she came across a familiar black cat during her nocturnal meanderings.

“Hello there, stranger.” She smiled, walking up to him. They kissed - the Parisian bise, nothing particularly romantic. Just like old times, when they met for patrol.

“I didn’t expect to see you here tonight.” He replied.

“Why ever not?” She crossed her arms and cocked an eyebrow. “I don’t recall us dividing the rooftop custody.”

“And I hope we never do. It’s always a pleasure to meet you up here, my Lady.” He delicately took her hand and kissed her knuckles, never breaking eye contact as he looked up at her from under his eyelashes. 

Ladybug’s heart fluttered in her chest. She was far from immune to the charms of the black cat she called her friend, even if she’d deny the fact fervently if confronted with it.

“I just know you like to be at Home on time to open the door for Nino and Alya.” Chat Noir added.

Ladybug froze as she mentally calculated the date. “Today’s _Friday_?!” She gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. She’d had so much on her plate lately, what with exams and the looming deadline of her portfolio, that she’d lost count of the days. 

Friday meant game night. And she was late.

Well, _they_ were late. It wasn’t like Adrien couldn’t play host from time to time. 

“We’re going to have to order take out, I don’t have time to make the cheese _soufflé_ I promised.” She shook her head.

“You _meow_ what? I have a better idea.” Chat smiled, wrapping an arm around her shoulders to stir her back in the direction of their flats.

“You do?” 

“Yep. I’m actually sorry I didn’t suggest this earlier, I feel like I should get a little more involved in the organisation of Game night.” He said sheepishly.

“Well, you know how I am… I tend to be a little controlling.” She smiled as they reached their own roof. “But I really wouldn’t mind it if you decided to take the wheel sometimes.”

“And I’ll be glad to step up.” Chat opened the trap door and gallantly waved her in. “After you, my Lady.” He said with a flourish.

As Ladybug landed at the bottom of the ladder, she was greeted by a smirking Alya, tapping her fingers on her crossed arms.

“I thought we’d find you up here.”

“Hey guys!” Chat Noir greeted his friends as he landed beside Ladybug. “Sorry we’re late.” 

“No worries, dude.” Nino fistbumped his friend. Both of them took the lead towards Adrien’s flat.

Ladybug detransformed before heading downstairs with Alya.

“Sooo… Enjoyed your little moonlit walk?” Alya nudged Marinette as they walked together. 

“It’s not like that.” Her friend rolled her eyes.

“Mhm.” 

“Honestly!” Marinette insisted.

“You guys have been spending a lot of time together lately, though. Doing very couple-y things.”

“It’s always been like this. We go to the cinema, to concerts, you name it, _as friends_. I don’t see why you suddenly think it’s different now.”

“You’re only tagged in almost all of Adrien’s insta posts these days.”

“That doesn’t mean anything. He just documents everything.” It was true - Adrien very much enjoyed toying with social media now that he didn’t have a publicist anymore. And that involved tagging everyone even remotely associated with any picture he took.

“I’m just looking out for you, girl. Don’t go breaking your heart.”

“That’s not even how the song goes.” 

“You’d know. Didn’t you sing it with Adrien at karaoke last week?” Alya side-eyed her friend.

“It’s a good song. We’re good friends. Karaoke is a fun, friendly activity. That’s all.” 

“If you say so.”

Marinette’s retort was cut by the two girls entering Adrien’s kitchen, where the concerned party was busy taking utensils out of the cupboards while Nino set up the music system.

“You guys are going to love this.” Adrien said as he tied his apron. 

It had been his Christmas gift from Marinette. Adrien ending up covered in flour after one of their usual cooking sessions had handed her the idea on a silver platter. She’d spent ages hunting for the perfect apron for him; in the end, she had gone with designing a green one with a black cat, who looked suspiciously like Plagg, poking out from the front pocket. She was pleased to see that he used it, and that it really complimented his eyes. Not that they needed any help in the being-spectacular department; she just appreciated how well she’d chosen the colour. 

The other contender had been an “I cook as good as I look” apron, which she thought would be a very Chat Noir thing to say. At that point, though, it would have been false advertising. 

“What’s on the menu tonight?” Alya asked, watching him expertly measure out the ingredients. Marinette gawked a little at how professional he looked. 

“ _Crêpes_!” He replied excitedly. “The batter will rest during our first round of UMS and then we can all make our own.” 

“Nice.” Nino nodded.

Adrien started mixing the batter with an electric whisk, filling the room with noise. Marinette moved around the kitchen island and started putting the ingredients away. She didn't mind not being the hostess for once, but she still needed to feel helpful.

“Since when do you have buckwheat flour?” Marinette asked over the whir of the kitchen robot, quizzically pointing at the flour packet.

“Since I moved in, I think?” He replied in the same way. “I got someone to buy me the essentials.”

Marinette shook her head. She didn’t dare ask what other “essentials” he’d been sold and were now sitting in his cupboards, gathering dust. She refrained to comment though; who knew when they could be useful?

“Do you have everything you need for the garnishes?” She asked instead.

“I have eggs, ham and _comté_ cheese for the savory crêpes. Does anyone want anything else?”

“I think I have some other stuff we can add, I’ll be right back.” Marinette hurried out of the apartment.

“I’ll come with you!” Alya jogged after her. “Come on you have to admit it, you still have feelings for him. I saw how you gaped when he mixed the ingredients.” She said when they were out of earshot.

“I definitely didn’t gape. Or if I did, it was just because he knew the recipe off by heart.” She shrugged, opening her fridge.

“It’s not that impressive. He’s making pancakes, not something super fancy.”

“It is if you knew how far he’s come. He couldn’t cook _pasta_ , Alya.”

Her friend made a face, and Marinette shoved a bunch of tupperwares in her hands. The wobbling tower was very effective at diverting her thoughts.

“Anyway, even if I did still have a bit of a crush, it wouldn’t matter. I’m happy with our relationship right now, and I’m not particularly looking for something romantic at the moment anyway.”

Her friend just sighed defeatedly as she followed her back across the hall.

Marinette was a little annoyed by Alya’s insinuations. She spent the rest of the evening noticing little things about Adrien, like how he scrunched up his nose as he punched the buttons of his remote when they played UMS. Or how cute he was when he leaned into a bend, mimicking his car’s movement in a Mario Kart race. As if it would help him take the lead. Or how he pouted when she dropped a banana peel right in front of him, sending him back five places. Why did he have to look so adorable? She was almost tempted to let him win. And a little more to kiss him better.

As they prepared the meal, she pouted in her cider, lost in thought while her friends messed around with the pancake pan. Had she really downplayed her feelings for Adrien ever since she’d learned Chat Noir’s identity? She’d barely had time to register the implications of Chat Noir being Adrien when it had happened. He’d needed a friend, what with the whole discovery of his father being Hawkmoth, and she’d instantly provided, shoving all feelings aside to be there for him. Were they finally catching up with her?

“Hey Marinette, look! One-handed flip!” Adrien put one arm behind his back and in a gentle motion flipped the contents of the pan, which remarkably didn’t fall on the ground. His bewildered look at the achievement brought a smile to her face. _Kwami, I love that dork_ , she thought as she gazed affectionately at him hopping up and down in celebration, applauded by Alya and Nino. Her eyes widened and she almost choked on her drink at the realisation of what she’d just thought, and she felt a blush creep up her cheeks.

Adrien caught her change in expression and stopped, looking at her with concern-filled eyes. “Are you alright, Buguinette?”

“Yes!” She yelped. “Thank you, I’m absolutely fine. It’s a little warm in here though, don’t you think?” She fanned herself, making her way towards the window. She opened it and felt a welcome fresh breeze against her skin.

“I don’t feel it.” Alya shrugged. “But you know what would really raise the temperature in here?” She waggled her eyebrows and Marinette was afraid she’d suggest that they play strip poker again. She’d brought up the idea at every game night they’d had so far to no avail, and Marinette thought tonight would definitely be the worst night to try it. “ _Crêpes flambées_!” 

Marinette sighed discreetly in relief as Adrien diverted his course from coming to check on her, his eyes brightening up at the idea. “I have some _Grand Marnier_ somewhere, I think!”

The four friends went about trying to find the bottle, before gathering around the pan. Adrien ceremoniously poured a ladleful of batter in it, making a smooth circular motion to spread it evenly. They watched as the crêpe cooked, Adrien flipping it when it was robust enough to do so. Marinette noted from the slightly golden aspect of the pancake that he’d mastered the timing. 

Nino and Alya stepped away as Adrien turned to grab the alcohol bottle, pouring some of its contents over the crêpe to cover it. Marinette winced a little. That was way too much. 

She was about to tell him as much when he reached for the kitchen lighter and set the pan on fire.

The blue flame shot out under his mesmerized eyes, missing his eyebrows and side part by an inch.

“Wow, easy there tiger.” Marinette came to his side and yanked the pan out of his hands, since he was too busy just watching the dancing flames. 

He shook his head, his eyes regaining focus as he felt the sudden absence of heat. “ _Crêpe_.” He swore under his breath.

Marinette narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him but quickly went back to watching the fire to make sure it stayed inside the pan. When she was certain the flames had dwindled down enough that she didn’t have to watch them closely, she turned towards Adrien. “Wouldn’t want your pretty face to be scarred, now, would we?” 

“You think my face is pretty?” He grinned widely.

Nino rolled his eyes. “Dude, you’re _the_ ex-model the whole Paris fashion scene wants to see back on the runways. _Of course_ your face is pretty.”

Adrien was about to reply that he didn’t care what the fashion scene thought, that he wanted to hear it from Marinette, when the person in question shoved a plate in his hands, avoiding eye contact. The sight of the prettily-folded, steaming pancake, and the heavenly smell that emanated from it made him lose his train of thought.

He sighed contentedly as he took a bite. “This really is _fire_.” 

“Alright that’s it; jar.” Marinette held out a hand.

“What? No! Come on, you have to admit, that was a good one!” He pouted.

“Maybe it’s not as bad as it could have been. But don’t think I didn’t hear the crêpe pun earlier. That brings it to the jar threshold.”

“ _Fine_.” Adrien set his plate down on the counter and dug out his wallet. He fished out a 2€ coin and dropped it in Marinette’s hand under Nino and Alya’s perplexed gazes.

“Er, excuse me, but what is this about?” Alya gestured between the two of them.

“Marinette is extorting money out of me.” Adrien shrugged and took another bite of his crêpe.

“No I’m not!” She gasped at the accusation. “I’m simply trying to coerce him into making better jokes. I have a jar at home, he needs to put money in it when he makes a particularly bad pun.”

The idea had emerged after a prolific baking and punning session, in Adrien’s eyes. Marinette had endured the decreasing quality of the jokes until the umpteenth cat’s meow comment of the evening, which had brought her over the edge. She’d grabbed an empty jam jar and asked for retribution, which Adrien had begrudgingly provided. Months later, they now used a bigger jar, as the punster didn’t seem to have learned his lesson.

“So you admit to draining all his money.” Nino grinned.

Marinette rolled her eyes and enumerated her arguments on her fingers. “A. It's only when we're cooking together. He can make as many puns as he wants outside the kitchen. B. He’s allowed to ask _me_ to put money in it if he judges I’ve made a bad joke too. And, C., we never agreed on how much a pun was worth, he could put in a centime each time for all I care.”

Adrien gasped. “But my puns are worth so much more than that!”

She gave a pointed look to Nino and Alya. “See? He willingly empties his bank account.”

“You’re both crazy.” Alya shook her head. “But what are you going to do with all the money Adrien gives you? Buy him a new sense of humour?” She smirked.

“See, _that_ was a good joke.” Marinette looked at Adrien, pointing at Alya. “And I was thinking about getting him a pun dictionary but I’m a little under budget now. I guess it’s just going to become his savings account.” She shrugged.

“You know what else we could use it for?” Alya asked a glint in her eye. Somehow, Marinette knew exactly what was coming next. “Poker money. And when it runs out, we can move on to… Strip poker!”

Nino, Marinette and Adrien grunted in unison and returned to making pancakes.

\--- 

“Bye!” Marinette and Adrien waved from his living room balcony until their friends disappeared around the street corner. Alya was still a little disappointed that they’d turned down her idea, but the rest of the evening had gone pretty smoothly nonetheless.

Marinette rubbed her arms a little to warm them up as she returned inside, leaving Adrien with the task of closing the window. She looked around at the remains of their evening, and started clearing the plates.

“Hey, you don’t have to do that, I’ll take care of it in the morning.” Adrien tutted as he unloaded the dishes from her hands.

“It’s only fair that I help clean up, though.” Marinette quickly grabbed the condiments and followed him into the kitchen. “As a thank you for having my back tonight.” 

“You know that will always be the case, Bugaboo.” He smiled fondly. “And since it’s clearly reciprocated,” he pointed at his slightly singed eyebrows, “you can go home and rest easy tonight.” 

“But…” She tried to steal a plate from the pile he’d set down on the counter to put it in the dishwasher, but he swatted her hand away.

“No buts! Tomorrow’s Saturday, it’s not like I have anything else to do. You need to get some sleep, though. I know how hard you’ve been working lately.”

Marinette sighed frustratedly. “You always help me when we have dinner at my place, let me at least do something for you.”

Adrien rolled his eyes, a side smile playing at his lips. She really wasn’t going to let go. “Okay, fine, if you insist. You can make me the cheese _soufflé_ I was _so_ looking forward to eating tonight, say, tomorrow?” He put out a hand for them to shake on it, but retracted it just before Marinette could grab it, to add an extra clause. “ _And_ I’ll help you make it.”

She rolled her eyes but shook his hand nonetheless. “Deal.”

“Now go to bed or I’ll carry you there myself.” 

He kissed her forehead and she scurried away, the image of Adrien carrying her bridal style to her room invading her thoughts and making her blush deeply. 

“G’night!” She called out before closing his door behind herself.

When she got to the safety of her own apartment, locking the door to make sure he would not get in, she slid against it to sit on the floor. She hated to say it, but Alya was definitely right when it came to her feelings. And she didn’t know what to do about it.

Oh well. There was plenty of time to figure it out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **French vocabulary:**  
>  - _Crêpes_ : French pancakes (bigger and thinner than the Anglo-Saxon ones)  
> - _Crepes flambées_ : flambéed pancakes (cooked with alcohol)  
> - _Grand Marnier_ : French liqueur
> 
> Thanks for reading! Don't hesitate to leave feedback, I hope you enjoyed this chapter :)
> 
> Find me on tumblr @2manyfandoms2count !


	3. Lesson 3 - Soufflé au fromage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrien and Marinette have a very date-like evening. Adrien discovers that Marinette loves someone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a reference to the movie _Sabrina_ , which is a 1954 movie starring Audrey Hepburn (Sabrina) and Humphrey Bogart (Linus Larrabee). To make it simple, Sabrina is the chauffeur's daughter and has a huge crush on Linus' brother David; her father sends her to Paris for two years to get over him (and learn how to cook). When she comes back, she's become very sophisticated and David "falls in love" with her, but he's engaged to a very profitable party for their family's business. Linus steps in to prevent his brother from breaking his engagement, and _spoiler alert_ he and Sabrina end up falling in love.
> 
> It's a great movie, I highly recommend it!

Marinette groaned internally as the doorbell rang. Reticently throwing her blanket aside, she got up from her cozy couch cocoon and made her way towards the entrance, taking a deep breath as she did so. 

She’d spent most of the day comfortably tucked in, watching the rain pour against the living room window as she clutched a steaming cup of tea between her hands. She’d brought the kettle and her tea box next to her, to avoid having to get up to refuel. It gave her more time to think.

For someone who’d just rediscovered their feelings, she’d slept surprisingly well; a literal log. After a full night of slumber, complete with a good lie in, something she hadn’t had in a while, she’d simply relocated to the sofa, her mind sharp and ready to face her predicament.

On the one hand, speaking to Adrien about her feelings seemed like the right thing to do. They were older now, more mature. Surely it was time to talk about their relationship; it had been weird when they were younger, what with the whole double identity business, but ultimately, hadn’t they been in love with each other? Enough time had passed now for them to face this fact, especially now that Hawkmoth was out of the picture.

On the other hand, when Chat Noir had once upon a time been relentless in his declarations of love, these had dwindled after their identity reveal to a sparse phrases that could possibly, _maybe_ , be interpreted as such, but could also just be friendly appreciation messages. She had absolutely no idea how Adrien felt about her now. As much as she clung onto the idea that his feelings hadn’t changed, part of her was terrified that they had and that she’d end up heartbroken if she brought up the topic. 

After all, Adrien _was_ an eligible bachelor, who rarely spent time at home, even if he always did make it back to sleep (Marinette had some kind of internal radar for him; even if she’d fallen asleep, the location of her room enabled her to regain just enough consciousness to register that he’d made it home safely from the slight jiggle of his keys on the landing). She wasn’t aware of him seeing anyone, since the topic oddly never came up, even at game night, but she wouldn’t have been that surprised to learn that he was. And she wasn’t sure that she was ready to face the facts right now.

Clutching her arms at the absence of heat from the blanket as she made her way towards the door, she had to admit she was a little relieved by the heads up Adrien was giving her. Most of the time, Marinette wished Adrien would just let himself in, like a cat through a catflap. It wasn’t like he _needed_ to ring to get in; they’d exchanged keys at about the same time she’d moved in, supposedly for safe keeping. In practise, it was more of an open invitation, which they both took up, although without using their keys. She liked to joke they shared a vampire tendency; they needed to be invited to come in.

“Hello, neighbour!” Adrien greeted her as she opened the door. 

He handed her a bottle of white wine, which she took by reflex. 

“I thought it would go well with the soufflé.” He cleared his throat, seeing her eye the label a little confusedly. 

“Right, yes, of course.” She shook her head and the thought that this oddly felt like the beginning of a date, and smiled. “Please come in, make yourself comfortable!” She called out as she walked to the kitchen to put the bottle in the fridge.

Adrien followed suit, and leaned against the kitchen counter. “So… How was your day?” 

“It was alright, thanks. Very relaxing, I guess, for once.”

She wasn’t lying. Her overthinking had surprisingly been kept down to a minimum. 

“Good.” He nodded approvingly. “You deserve to treat yourself every once in a while, you know. You do _so_ much. You’re amazing, Marinette.”

Marinette smiled in response, a small blush creeping up her cheeks. This was exactly the sort of comment she wasn’t sure how to interpret. It wasn’t just the wording - it was the way Adrien’s gaze softened as he looked at her, an awed smile spreading on his lips. She liked to think it was the same behaviour she’d demonstrated towards him as a lovesick teenager (and probably still did, although she hoped that she was a little more inconspicuous now), but Adrien had been like this with her, _Marinette_ her, for pretty much as long as they’d been friends.

She cleared her throat and turned the oven on before reaching for a mixing bowl. 

“How was _your_ day?” She asked as she set it on the counter. 

“Oh, you know. A pretty standard Saturday, really. A little cleaning, a little coursework, and a whole lot of loafing around.” He shrugged, taking her Ginette Matthiot book out and opening it at the soufflé page. “Ooh, chocolate soufflé.” He read the next recipe out loud. “We’ll have to try that one day.”

“Something tells me you’d really enjoy the Grand Marnier one as well.” Marinette pointed further down on the page, in reference to the alcohol they’d used for their crêpes flambées. 

“All these recipes to look forward to.” He sighed wistfully. “We’re going to have to step it up if we ever want to get through the whole book.” 

He was torn between wanting that to happen soon, since it would mean more cooking time with Marinette _now_ , and spreading it out for as long as possible, since it would mean staying in touch for as long. Not that he was worried that they’d stop seeing each other; it was an unspoken rule that whatever life held for each of them, they would stay in contact. They had been linked by fate, and they would not try to break that bond.

“We better get… cracking, then.” Marinette replied with an evil smile as she cracked the first egg into the bowl.

“Nice one, my Lady, but you know you’re in jar territory!” He extended a hand.

Her laughter almost made him reconsider his demand. It seemed like payment enough.

\---

Marinette swirled the contents of her glass pensively as they watched a movie. The forty minute cooking time had Adrien suggest that they watch something, and he’d dared her to find a movie that included the word _soufflé_ , thinking it would be a challenge. Marinette had snorted and simply pulled out Sabrina from her DVD collection. It was a fashion reference, as well as a great classic. Adrien had become very invested in the film, and had insisted on coming back to it after they'd had dinner, although it had been fairly late when they'd finished eating the soufflé and its accompanying salad (the latter being a suggestion from Adrien to make the meal more healthy - she'd been proud that his diet had improved to the point that he now needed some kind of vegetable with a meal). Marinette had accepted, of course, eager to prolong their time together. 

She felt quite smug, wrapped comfortably in a throw, leaning against one of the couch’s armrests. Adrien sat opposite her, far enough on the sofa that they weren’t awkwardly cramped, but still close enough that they could share a blanket. She hadn’t managed to say anything about her feelings yet, which threw her back to her Collège years, but, after all, she had a pretty domestic relationship with him now; wasn’t that enough?

“One, two, three; crack!” The chef on TV perfectly cracked an egg open with one hand.

“Witchcraft!” Adrien gasped, and turned towards her. “Surely people can’t be so skilled?”

“Sadly, they can.” She shifted, extending her feet a little under the throw to entangle them with Adrien’s. They were cold, okay? 

She hid a smile as she felt Adrien’s feet twine around hers, distracting her ever so slightly from his words.

“Anyway, what’s the big deal about these soufflés? Ours tasted delicious without looking purr-fect.” He shook his head.

“Jar.” Marinette stated out of reflex. Technically, they weren’t in the kitchen, so the rule didn’t apply. 

She was about to say as much when Adrien groaned and pulled a five euro bill out of his pocket, before slamming it in the pun-jar, conveniently located on the coffee table beside them. _Oh, well_.

“Yeah, but it’s supposed to be a fancy cooking class, clearly targeted at 1950s housewives, so it’s all about appearances.” She replied, drawing an air-rainbow as she pronounced the last word.

They focused on the movie again as the head chef inspected his students’ works, and commented on Sabrina’s poor cooking skills.

Marinette snorted at the onscreen explanation of why Sabrina had messed up her soufflé.

“What?” Adrien asked, intrigued by his friend’s reaction.

“Nothing, it’s just that _this_ is the really ridiculous part.” She shook her head. “The whole ‘a girl in love forgets to turn the oven on’ nonsense - I’m in love and you don’t see me-” 

Her eyes widened at the realisation of what she was saying, and she slapped her hands over her mouth.

The damage had been done, though. Adrien had perked up at her words, leaning forwards with a seemingly excited smile. “You’re in love?”

“It doesn’t matter.” She muttered, putting a finger on her lips, her eyes not leaving the screen as she increased the volume with the remote to end the conversation. She was thankful that she’d decided against keeping a light on as they watched the movie; she had no doubt her cheeks were the colour of her Ladybug mask, but the black and white glare of the TV probably softened it.

Adrien skillfully ejected the remote control from her hand and pressed pause. He couldn’t exactly decipher his feelings towards the new piece of information. On one hand, he was thrilled that Marinette would share her feelings with him, although she did look absolutely mortified about them at that particular moment. He was really curious to know who his wonderful neighbour had her eyes set on. On the other hand, something tugged at his stomach at the thought that she was in love - with somebody else.

“You’re in love?” He repeated, inching ever so slightly closer towards her. 

Marinette stared back at him blankly, feeling her heartbeat rise dangerously in her chest. After what felt like an eternity of staring straight into each other’s eyes, she gave in.

“Okay, fine.” She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms across her chest, looking away. “Yes, I’m in love.”

“You say it like it’s a bad thing.” Adrien reached forward and took one of her hands in his. “When love is one of the most amazing feelings out there. And whoever he is, I hope you get to share it with him.” _I know_ I _would love to share it with you_.

Marinette untensed a little at his words. Maybe this was her moment. 

Her brain, however, decided to remain frozen, focusing on being lost in his gaze, her hand comfortable in his. As usual.

“I can tell you don’t really want to talk about it right now, but… I’m here for you if you ever want to talk about it, alright?”

He gave her hand a squeeze and let go, relaxing back into his side of the couch and resuming the movie.

Marinette sighed at the missed opportunity, but soon cheered up as Sabrina appeared onscreen with her iconic dress. Two things were a certainty: she was a coward when it came to feelings, but Givenchy was a master when it came to clothes.

Adrien enjoyed the rest of the movie, especially how it made Marinette smile. He wasn’t sure about how he felt about her love interest, but he promised himself that he’d find out who it was. And he was going to make sure he was good enough for her.

But first, he would make sure she knew he was still in the ring for her heart. Just in case the part of him that was still hoping she’d eventually fall for him had been heard. He’d backed down after Hawkmoth’s defeat, at first because there were other things on his mind, then because they’d fallen into a nice dynamic he didn’t want to risk breaking. Besides, his compliments sometimes had an effect on Marinette he couldn’t quite decipher; he wasn’t sure if they made her very flustered, or plain uncomfortable. In doubt, he’d tamed it down. His feelings had definitely not changed, though. Or, if they had, they’d only strengthened. 

He could still hope Marinette’s adolescent crush on him (which he’d learned about from Alya) had as well. 

Maybe he’d be the Linus Larrabee to her Sabrina.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, don't hesitate to leave feedback! :) The next update will take less long to arrive, I've got all the events down and have already started writing it! :D
> 
> Find me on tumblr @2manyfandoms2count


	4. Lesson 4 - Macarons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrien starts talking about the 'girl he loves' and recruits Marinette to bake for her. He also investigates his friend's love life, and comes up with a plan to get her to talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is almost half the word count, and a total self-indulgent fluff fest. Special thanks to @theladyfae for beta reading!

“Buguinette?” Adrien called out almost absentmindedly from her sofa. 

He was sprawled out on it in a cat-like fashion, scrolling on his phone while Marinette sat at her desk, working on her latest project. There was something enjoyable about hanging out in near silence, each of them doing their own thing, but, together. It just felt... _right_.

Marinette looked up from her work station, releasing her grip on her pencil. She’d been aggressively sketching for the past hour, making the most of her inspiration cooperating for once. Her ideas having successfully transferred to the page for the most part (she would have answered with a raised index while continuing to scribble had it not been the case), she was thankful for the opportunity to sit up and untense that Adrien provided.

“Yes, Chaton?” She stretched her back, rotating her body towards him as she did so.

“What would you say is the quickest way to a woman’s heart?”

Whatever Marinette had expected him to say next, it definitely hadn’t been that. She felt her heart rate increase as she pondered what to reply. This was it. Adrien asking her for relationship advice. _Again_. 

What was she supposed to do?

Adrien was oblivious to her slight panic, interpreting her silence as a moment of reflection -which wasn’t entirely wrong. Part of her wanted to change the topic, another was curious as to what this was about, a third went straight into defensive mode and wanted to lie to undermine the chances of whoever it was he was asking _for_ , and a final one just wanted to be honest. If possible, about everything.

“I’ve been trying to find answers online for ages, but nothing seems right, you know.” He prompted when the silence had stretched out for a little too long. “And since you mentioned you were in love the other day… Maybe you could help me? What was it that made you fall for the lucky guy?”

He mentioned the other day like they’d just talked about Marinette’s love life, when three weeks had passed since their improvised movie night. She’d tried everything to hype herself up to bring up the subject and finally come clean, to no avail. 

Marinette sighed, thinking their friendship probably should come before her feelings, since the latter were clearly not ready to come out. 

“I don’t think there really is a quick way. That would get you a crush, maybe. Which is a good start, I guess, but if you really want to win her over, you just need to be…” She caught herself before she could say ‘yourself’; that was what Adrien (and Chat Noir, to a certain extent) had done to make her fall for him, but it felt a little obvious. She tried to single out what had made her fall for him in the first place. “Honest with her, I guess, about everything. Especially about your feelings.” _Oh, the irony_ , she winced. “And also thoughtful. I mean, I don’t know, tell her when you’re thinking about her. Maybe… if you see something that reminds you of her, send her a picture? And be… I don’t know, _there_? Spend time with her. Instead of scrolling on a screen.” 

“Thanks, Marinette.” He grinned. Spending time with her was definitely a box he could tick. “So it’s definitely not through her stomach then. Here I was, thinking it would be easy.” He sighed dramatically.

“Well, it depends, I guess.” _Just imagine this is somebody else you’re giving advice to_ , she thought. _This is fine_. “Baking can be a good way to show her that you care.”

“Really?” He propped himself up on his elbow, a happy grin spreading on his lips. “So… Do you think macarons would be a good idea?”

“Sure, as long as she’s not allergic.” She shrugged.

“Oh trust me, she’s definitely not.” He replied with a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. “Could you maybe help me out with the recipe?”

Marinette pinched the bridge of her nose and breathed in deeply.

“Marinette?” Adrien was suddenly at her side, a concerned frown wrinkling his forehead as he rubbed her arm. “Are you alright?”

“Peachy. Just a little tired from my working session.” She lied with a weak smile. She really needed to do something about the situation soon. Although right now, having him take care of her felt nice.

“Okay, we’ll make macarons another day, then. For now, we’re going to go sit in the couch and watch something stupid on TV.” He smiled affectionately at her and helped her out of her chair, guiding her to the sofa, his hand never leaving her side. 

Marinette relaxed into his touch, but sighed inwardly at his attention. She hadn’t thought it would be possible to fall more in love with Adrien than she was, but she’d apparently been wrong.

She really needed to do something about it. If possible, before he wormed his way into that other girl’s heart.

\---

“Thank you for having lunch with me today, guys.” Adrien smiled at Alya and Nino, shifting on the leather couch to face them in the restaurant booth. 

Since Marinette wasn’t spilling any details about her love life that would allow him to gauge where they were at in their relationship, he’d decided to bring out the big guns. Specifically, getting Alya involved (and Nino, of course, but Adrien would have asked for his help anyway). 

“Mind telling us what this lunch is about?” Alya cut to the chase as she took a sip of water, leaning back in her seat. “It’s been a while since the last time just the three of us hung out.”

“Yeah, it feels sort of weird, doesn’t it?” Adrien scratched the back of his head. Marinette’s absence was necessary, but he still missed her. “Anyway, I need love advice.” He stated calmly, shifting so he was leaning on the table, looking at his friends intently.

Alya almost spat her drink out, but caught herself and went for a coughing fit instead. Nino patted her back, a look of concern on his face. 

“And it’s not just you and I because?...” He trailed off as he cared for his choking girlfriend.

“Because Alya has all the Marinette intel I need.”

“Why would you need… Oh. _Oh._ ” Nino’s eyes widened, and a smirk spread on Alya’s lips. This was going to be _fun_.

“It’s about time you started changing gears with her again.” She cleared her throat. “But who tells you I’ll give you that information for free, Agreste?”

“Oh, I don’t expect you to. I’m paying for lunch.”

“Eh, good try, but we’re talking about my best friend’s feelings here. What would happen if she discovered I traded her secrets for one, admittedly fancy, meal?”

“Well, see, I was hoping the outcome would complement the payment.” Adrien crossed his arms over his chest.

“And what would that outcome be, exactly?” She mirrored him, cocking an eyebrow.

“Me doing everything that’s within my power to make Marinette happy, as her boyfriend. But first, I’d like to know if I’m overstepping boundaries by stepping it up.” 

Alya leaned back into her seat and pinched the bridge of her nose. “You guys are unbelievable.”

“What?” Adrien was perplexed by her reaction. He’d hoped she’d be a little more enthusiastic at the prospect of Marinette and him dating. 

“When will you guys learn that communication is key?” She snapped her fingers in front of his face, making him lean back in surprise. “Stop talking to other people about your feelings, and talk to each other _directly_.”

“Maybe we should give them the Ladybug treatment and lock them in a room together. Worked for us, didn’t it babe?” Nino kissed Alya on the cheek. 

“True, but they’re always in a room together, and that hasn’t done anything for them.” She rolled her eyes.

“Trust me, it’s not for want of trying to bring up the subject.” Adrien raked a hand through his hair. “Marinette’s just very... elusive about the topic. She’s very vague about the ‘guy she loves’,” he airquoted, “and any time I try to tell her about _my_ feelings, suddenly anything seems to be more interesting.” He sighed. “I don’t understand, there’s undeniable chemistry between us, am I imagining that she might like me back? Do I have a chance with her, at all?”

“Oh honey,” Alya chuckled, patting his hand on the table. “Has anyone _other_ than you ever had a chance with her?”

Adrien felt heat rise to his cheeks at the confirmation that it wasn’t hopeless, but couldn’t completely believe he was through. “Luka?”

“Please.” She scoffed. “Yes, he was sweet, but he clearly loved her more than she loved him. He didn’t mind, but it made her uncomfortable; she didn’t want to lead him on.”

Alya could tell Adrien was raking his brain in the hope of finding someone else, and decided she should spare him the trouble. “Adrien, the only person Marinette has loved and still loves enough that she imagines her life with them, is you. It drove her mad at times, but she couldn’t do anything about it.”

Adrien looked down at his place setting, stunned. She still loved him. He was the guy she loved. Then why, oh _why_ , wasn’t she talking to him about it?

“So, dude, what are you going to do about it?” Nino broke the silence after even the waiter bringing their lunch had failed to get his friend to react.

The latter looked up, his eyes full of resolve. “Well, given that she won’t talk to me, I’ll let her simmer for a bit about _my_ feelings. I promise she won’t regret it, though.”

\---

Lunch with Nino and Alya had really made Adrien feel better. Marinette’s newfound fluster took a whole new meaning with the crucial information he’d gained; it wasn’t discomfort about proximity and a potential feeling of cheating, just her adorable response to not knowing how to act around him anymore. At first, he’d felt a little frustrated at the thought that if he just took the leap and talked to her seriously they could end all this stupid dancing around each other. Then, he’d realised that giving Marinette a little time could be a good thing, especially since Valentine’s Day was just around the corner.

Whatever happened between now and then, he’d treat her to the most romantic dinner he could imagine.

As they worked around each other in his kitchen, preparing the ingredients for their latest baking session, he daydreamed about it, hoping he would nail every little detail, and that the stressed out lady at his side would like it. He shot her a fond look as she measured out sugar, biting her nails while she waited for the scale to zero. 

“Everything alright, Marinette?” He asked, coming behind her to rub her tensed shoulders. 

She jumped at the unexpected contact. How was she supposed to admit that she had incredibly mixed feelings about the whole situation? They were cooking together, yes, but for somebody else. Someone she hadn’t met yet but really didn’t want to think about. 

She wanted to kick herself because of her inability to sit down and talk feelings with Adrien. Also because of how petty she was when it came to his love interests. Knowing him, the girl was bound to be nice; she had no right to judge her solely because she’d stolen his heart. It wasn’t _her_ fault.

“Just a little stressed out about a presentation I have on Friday.” She lied, trying not to melt at how good the impromptu massage felt. 

“Is that what you were working on the other day?” 

She nodded silently, feeling heat rise to her cheeks she wished would just recede. 

“I have to say, the little I saw was amazing. I’m sure you’re going to crush it.” He stepped back, and took out a bowl. “You know where to find me if you need an audience to rehearse.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, thank you.”

“It’s the least I can do to thank you for helping me out today.” Adrien replied. “I really needed it, I wouldn’t want to offer subpar macarons to the girl I love.” 

Marinette rolled her eyes. It was such an Adrien thing to say, she knew, but it felt like he was adding insult to injury. 

Not that he would know that, of course. 

(Except he did, and was trying very hard to hide his delight at seeing her jealousy towards an imaginary girl. Holding her to her promise to help him make macarons was entirely an excuse to hang out with her, since she’d made herself more elusive. His original plan had actually been to get help from the _other_ macaron expert in the building, an immortal creature he knew was hanging around close by, ready to pounce as soon as the delicacies came out of the oven.) 

“So… why don’t you tell me about the lucky girl then.” She sighed, mixing the sugar and almond powder together. 

“Oh, she’s amazing.” Adrien swooned, amused by her choice of words, as he took out the electric whisk. “She’s super smart, kind, selfless, hard-working and did I mention, absolutely beautiful? Sometimes I wonder why she’s interested in _me_.” He enumerated, eyeing her reaction.

Marinette resisted her instinct to jump in to defend him. Behind all of Adrien’s bravado, she knew there was insecurity. The way his eye twinkled mischievously, though, let her know he was fishing for compliments.

“She seems like quite the girl.” She gulped, trying to retain the pang of jealousy she felt from lacing her words. 

“She definitely is.” He hid a smirk, turning the electric whisk on and starting to beat the egg-whites. “Actually, I’d love for you to meet her.” He said loudly above the noise.

“Really? I’d love that too.” Marinette said as enthusiastically as she could muster. _Woohoo, let’s meet the girlfriend_ , she thought. _He’s been talking about her for a week, and he’s already getting her to meet his friends? She must really be special to him_.

“Amazing!” Adrien couldn’t resist a little chuckle at Marinette’s defeated face, and was half tempted to kiss it better. _Oh, my darling Lady, if only you knew._ “What are your plans next Friday?”

Marinette paused in the midst of mixing the ganache. “Apart from my presentation, I think I’m free.” She said cautiously. _Please don’t say you want me to join you guys in whatever date night you’re organising -_

Her short prayer to whoever was out there was interrupted by the sudden realisation that something was amiss. Adrien was inviting her along to a dinner on a Friday night, which wasn’t normally possible, given that they usually had plans with Nino and Alya. The couple, however, had asked for a raincheck on that particular week’s gathering, as it happened to not be just any Friday. 

“Wait, it’s already February, isn’t it?” She feigned to have lost sight of time, as she stirred the ganache a little more forcefully than necessary. “Which would make next Friday, the 14th… so, Valentine’s day?” 

“Oh, will you look at that.” Adrien hid a smirk. “Well, will you be with lover boy?” 

_It’s looking more and more like that might be the case, yes,_ she wanted to answer. “Um… no, nothing planned yet.”

“It’s a date then!” Adrien said enthusiastically, while Marinette winced at the poor choice of words. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of everything. It’ll be purr-fect, you can just come back from your presentation and put your feet under the table.”

“Sounds great.” She mumbled. “Oh, wait, don’t you think your… girlfriend? will mind that I hijack your dinner?”

“It’s a whisk I’m prepared to take.”

“Jar.” She said. She tried to ignore the fact he hadn’t denied her title.

She suddenly saw why romcom protagonists ended up sitting on a couch eating ice cream out of the bucket, and watching a cheesy movie. It sounded a billion times better than being stuck in the worst third wheel situation anybody could come up with. She wouldn’t wish it on her worst enemy. Even a new Hawkmoth emerging didn’t sound half as bad.

“I don’t have cash on me right now, but I’ll be sure to put the money towards something nice for Friday night.”

“Can’t wait.” She mumbled as she pushed the grill with the macarons into the oven a little too brutally for it to look completely natural.

Adrien couldn’t help kissing her temple to try and make her feel a little better.

\---

“Ugh guys, what possessed me to say yes?!” Marinette repeatedly banged her forehead on the table once the waiter had left, although softly so as not to cause a commotion. Alya and Nino had been summoned into their second emergency lunch of the week, and in the same restaurant as the first one. If anyone needed any more proof that their friends were made for each other, this was probably it. 

As she’d met up with them, Marinette had thought that her collège friends were probably the only couple she was happy playing third wheel for. It could be a little awkward at times, since they could be a little heavy on the PDA (did Alya _have_ to clean Nino’s cheek with her napkin? And did he _have_ to snog her by way of thanking her?), but she wasn’t going to complain when A. they had accepted to be her moral support, and B. she wasn’t sure she wouldn’t be like that with the guy she loved. 

Which brought her thoughts back to Adrien. She kept imagining the next evening’s dinner, and every scenario ended up with some kind of disaster. Her fighting over Adrien with his girlfriend. Her making a fool of herself in front of the two, by being clumsy and spilling everything on herself. Her saying something that would make Adrien hate her forever and never talk to her again.

She’d really raked her head, and still couldn’t imagine a worse situation than the one she’d soon be experiencing. It wasn’t just for her, either; sure, it would be awkward to watch the guy she loved and his girlfriend all night, but it would probably be just as bad for her - her new boyfriend’s best friend, with whom he had undeniable chemistry (if she said so herself), crashing their Valentine’s Day date? She’d definitely hate it if it happened to her.

“It’s going to be alright, Marinette.” Alya patted her shoulder soothingly.

“How can you be so confident about that?" Her friend straightened up and pouted. 

Alya did her best to hide the smug smile that was desperately trying to invade her face. _Because I know something you don't, and boy would you_ love _to know what it is_. "Because you always figure it out." She said instead.

“Not when it comes to love, I don’t.” She shook her head. “I’ve never been able to say anything to Adrien. And now it’s come to bite me in the ass.”

Alya snorted.

“Who _is_ this girl anyway? She just… waltzes in and steals his heart? Unbelievable.”

“Actually, she’s been around for a while.” Nino cleared his throat, shooting Alya a sly look.

“Wait, you knew about her?” Marinette whipped around to face him. “And you didn’t tell me? Some friend you are.” She scoffed.

“Hey, I know we’ve been friends for longer than we’ve known either of the dorks,” Nino squeezed Alya’s hand affectionately, “but you know my loyalty lies with Adrien. Bros before hoes, all that jazz.”

“But I thought I was also one of the bros now.” Marinette pouted, crossing her arms. “And even so, you tell Alya everything! You knew about the mystery girl and you didn’t tell me?” She gasped, turning towards her best friend. 

“Hey, don’t blame me for it. I told you to make a move, you didn’t, now here we are. If anything, it shows you should listen to me more.” Alya threw her hands in the air. “I’m sure you’ll get along just fine with her, from what I’ve heard.”

“Oh, how great.” Marinette replied sarcastically. “I don’t _want_ to like her.” She muttered.

“Come on Marinette, cheer up! You know Adrien wouldn’t ever put you in an uncomfortable situation.” Nino smiled.

“Sometimes, I wonder.” She sighed. “Although I must admit, at least I’m definitely not stressed about my presentation tomorrow.”

“See? Every cloud has a silver lining. And something tells me this one actually has more than one.” Alya winked and patted Marinette’s hand.

Her friend really hoped she was right.

\---

Ladybug yoyoed herself onto the rooftop. It was stupid, she could've easily just come up the normal way, by climbing up the ladder (although maybe the dress she was wearing would have made it a little complicated), but as petty as it was, casually detransforming in front of Adrien's date made her feel the slightest bit better about the situation.

Just like finding a box of freshly baked macarons as she left, accompanied with a little note reading “ _Saved some for you. Knock ’em dead! Love, A_ ” had as well. They had been a great snack as she’d come home from her presentation; so delicious, in fact, that she’d wondered why Tikki hadn’t been all over them the minute she’d crossed the apartment threshold. The Kwami had scrambled for a vague excuse, reluctant to admit that the person Adrien had saved the macarons _from_ was actually floating right in front of her. She didn’t have to know.

As she landed next to a carefully set table, Ladybug couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed to find only Adrien waiting at the rendez-vous location. 

He had his back to her, hands in his suit pockets as he looked onto the city lights at his feet. It was a particularly pretty night, although maybe a little on the cold side. Marinette's heart ached in her chest as she took in just how beautiful and stylish he looked, especially with the Parisian scenery as a backdrop and the Moon giving him an ethereal look. How could he look so good in a suit? She was glad she’d ended up ditching the slightly more casual-looking outfit she’d almost worn. She guessed maybe her pettiness did have _some_ perks, one of which being that she wouldn’t feel underdressed.

"Hey." She called as she walked up to him. 

Adrien turned around with a lazy smile, which turned into a smirk when he noticed her attire.

"I see you went for something comfortable tonight, my Lady?"

"Just for transport, Chaton."She rolled her eyes, hoping he would buy that excuse. "Tikki, spots off."

Adrien's eyes widened and he couldn’t help but gape as the pink light faded around her, which made her smirk internally. Marinette stood before him in a midnight blue Cheongsam, delicately embroidered with silver floral motifs, which contrasted delightfully with her ivory skin in the moonlight. She’d put her hair up in a bun, liberating her neck and making her look regal. _The picture of elegance_ , he thought, absentmindedly reaching for her hand and making her twirl.

“Well, then, Chaton,” she smirked, appreciating the fact that she’d at least impress Adrien once tonight. “Cat got your tongue?”

Adrien shook out of his daze and cleared his throat. “You look… Breathtaking, Buguinette.” 

“Why, thank you.” She curtsied. “You clean up pretty well yourself.”

“Yes, but I didn’t have a presentation a couple hours ago.” He cleared his throat. “How did it go, by the way?”

“Fairly well, I think.” Marinette gave him a tight smile. “The macarons really helped.”

“I’m glad.”

She escaped his gaze and walked towards the table. Little candles provided dim mood lighting straight out of a movie. It had been set for three, although something looked a little off. She couldn’t pinpoint what, exactly. Her careful study of the place settings was distracted by the large bouquet of red roses sat on the edge of the table, so as not to prevent people from seeing each other when sitting down. Marinette moved a strand of hair out of her face and smelled it. She sighed as she took in the delicate floral notes. 

“Nice, huh?” Adrien had stealthily moved right behind her and she jumped as she felt the whisper in her ear, almost knocking his nose as she jolted up. 

“Very.” She cleared her throat, moving away. She took a deep breath and looked at her wristwatch, anxious to see her ‘rival’ arrive. Adrien had nailed the romantic ambiance tonight, and she wasn’t sure she could be held accountable if anything happened while they waited for her. 

Adrien sniggered internally as he observed her tense demeanor. He supposed maybe it was time to put her out of her misery. 

As if on cue, Tikki flew up next to him, head tilted in a silent question. Adrien nodded, and the kwami winked at him before zipping off through the roof. Unbeknownst to Marinette, she was in charge of supervising the reheating of the meal Adrien had spent all afternoon cooking. Plagg was also supposed to help, but Adrien didn’t doubt that he was probably salivating over the cheese plateau he’d helpfully given advice for. 

“So, erm, I’d hate to sound rude, but… Your girlfriend is a little tardy, isn’t she?” Marinette let out a little awkward laugh, tucking a loose hair strand behind her ear.

“You know, I didn’t say anything last time you referred to her as such, but… She’s actually not my girlfriend. Well, not yet, anyway.” Adrien said, casually taking a couple of steps towards her, hands in his pockets, gently kicking a lone pebble.

“Oh?” She gulped. So she’d witness the love of her life and his… lady friend getting together then; it was even worse than she thought. Was it too late to leave? Maybe she could pretend to suddenly be ill? “You know, if that’s the case… I really shouldn’t be here tonight. I know you probably thought like it was a good idea, and I’m all for making you feel confident with a date, but I really don’t think you need me. You’re wonderful as you are Adrien. It’s better if I leave before she arrives.” 

Marinette felt the sting of tears in her eyes as she talked, and took a deep breath to make them go away. She wasn’t quite sure where the emotion was coming from, although maybe it had something to do with how stressed she’d been all day. As she felt the tears resurface, her only thought was that she needed to get out of there. Fast.

She looked around desperately, trying to find Tikki (Adrien’s friend would surely be coming up the traditional way and she really wasn’t in a mood to run into her), as well as to stay clear from looking Adrien in the eye. 

A plan which failed miserably when she felt his fingers slide between hers, prompting her to turn around. 

Adrien took in her tear-filled eyes and immediately pulled her closer, embracing her in a hug. She tried to push him away, but he held on tight.

“I’m so sorry Buguinette.” He said against her hair. She could feel his heart beating under his shirt.

“You don’t have to feel sorry about anything, Adrien.” She sniffled as quietly as she could. She could still save face, she just needed to get out of his arms before anything stupid happened, and her good-smelling ‘friend’ being so close definitely wasn’t helping.

“Actually, I do.” He released her enough to enable her to look up at him and see him gazing at her tenderly, and _could he just not-_ “I put you in a situation where you didn’t feel like you could talk to me, and that’s not okay.”

She looked at him with a confused frown. “What do you mean?”

“Marinette, why are you crying?”

“I- I’m tired from today, the nerves-”

He smirked and leaned forward, his nose almost touching hers as his green eyes bore into hers. “Are you lying?”

Her old reflexes came back and she pushed him away with a finger, smoothly escaping his embrace and making a beeline for the rooftop railing. She grabbed onto it and took a deep breath before replying.

“I don’t see what you’re talking about.”

“Would it help you if I told you I’m not expecting anyone but you up here tonight?”

Marinette turned around slightly. “What do you mean? The table’s laid for three.”

“Is it, though?” He tilted his head and smiled. 

“Well, yes, there are three plates, and…”

“Two chairs, two sets of cutlery, and two glasses.” 

She looked over at the table. So that’s what had been wrong with it. 

“Then why…”

“To torture you just a little more. I thought maybe it would make you snap and talk to me. And also I did promise Plagg and Tikki that they could join us for the food.”

“I see.” Marinette stared at her feet. “I’m not sure I understand, though…”

“And they said _I_ ’m the oblivious one.” He chuckled and raked a hand through his blond hair. “Marinette, _you_ ’re the one I’m waiting for tonight. The one I’m hoping will accept to be my girlfriend despite all I’ve put you through in the past week.”

Marinette gaped in response, and he took it as an invitation to take another couple of strides to stand right before her and to take her hands in his. “I love you, Marinette. I thought it was pretty obvious, but apparently I managed to get more subtle with time. I love you more than anyone and anything in the world.” He wiped a runaway tear from her cheek and smiled. “And I really wish you’d stop trying to put others’ happiness first when you aren’t sure what that is, because I can _assure_ you nothing would make me happier than knowing that you love me.”

“How did you know?” Marinette wiped her eyes with a chuckle and a sniffle.

“I might have asked Nino and Alya for guidance.” He squeezed her hands in his. “I think they’re tired of seeing us chase each other endlessly.”

“I’m a little tired, too.” Her cheeks pinked. “I love you, you demonic cat.”

“Hey, that’s Plagg’s title.” He tutted. “How can I be demonic when I set up all this? And cooked you a delicious meal?” He gestured towards the rooftop. “I’m nothing short of angelic, my Lady.”

She laughed and buried her head against his chest as his arms wrapped around her. 

“We’re really not doing things in the right order, huh.” She felt him laugh against her cheek. “Saying I love you before officially being in a relationship.”

She looked up, a mischievous glint in her eye. “To be fair, we _were_ partners all along.”

“I suppose.” He kissed her forehead, her cheek, her nose, and stopped shy of the corner of her lips. “Will you be my girlfriend, now?”

She stood on her tiptoes and pressed a delicate kiss to his lips, her hands flying around his neck to tangle in his hair. 

“Does this answer your question?” She managed to breathe out before he pulled her closer to deepen the kiss.

She felt him smile against her lips, giving her an excuse to break away again to catch her breath. 

“What?”

“I’m just thinking about how I told you you’d fall for me someday, and look at you now.” He smirked, leaning his forehead against hers.

Marinette rolled her eyes, but the passionate kiss she pulled him into definitely said there were no hard feelings.


	5. Epilogue - Quiche Lorraine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two years after the previous chapter, Adrien and Marinette compete for best present on their anniversary. It's honestly a tough call.

Marinette hummed happily as she dusted the living room bookshelf. It wasn’t something that really needed doing, given that Adrien did it every week, but she felt the urge to do something manual and mindless rather than sit in the same room, staring at a blank page as she waited for inspiration to hit.

The two previous years had been an absolute dream, on many fronts. She’d gotten her first designer job in an up-and-coming fashion company shortly after graduating from her Masters degree. Many of her designs had already made it on the runway, launching her on a "to-watch" list. It was hard work, but she enjoyed it very much.

And her relationship with Adrien bloomed beyond what they ever would’ve imagined. Both of them had soon realised that putting a label on their relationship didn’t really change their dynamic, confirming Alya’s theory that they’d already been dating without knowing. There was an added bonus, though; they didn’t have to resist the urge to touch each other anymore. 

It was the little things, like Marinette sleepily hugging Adrien from behind when they were preparing breakfast together, standing on her tiptoes to rest her head on his shoulder and kiss him on the cheek. Being able to cuddle,  _ on purpose _ , on the couch while they watched a movie. Her hand finding its way in his when they went for a walk, in the street or on the rooftops. Adrien gently kissing the top of her head when he brought her a cup of hot beverage if she was up late for work. Their kisses at the top of the Eiffel Tower at night, Ladybug’s arms wrapped around Chat Noir’s neck while he held on to her tightly, alone with the city spreading at their feet. Or their sweet good morning kisses, the best of wake up calls.

They’d moved in together six months after their official anniversary. It wasn't like they didn't pretty much live together anyway, but it meant they actually shared their life. Adrien had sold his apartment, and both had invested in Marinette’s. Adrien had been quite insistent on the matter, arguing that it felt more like Home than his flat ever did.

Marinette smiled as she picked up a picture of Chat Noir and her which had fallen flat on the shelf. She wiped the frame, her thoughts drifting to the day it had been taken. If she had agreed to staying in her apartment instead of getting a completely new place of their own, there had been one condition: they needed to buy new furniture, things they both chose. 

That day, Marinette had taken the morning off and they’d made a trip to Ikea. They’d walked through all the displays, drifting from one aesthetic to another. It had been hard not to buy the whole store, but they’d ended up choosing a couple of dressers and a new coffee table, as well as a dozen kitchen utensils and decorations that just seemed  _ so  _ important to own. Adrien had assured her that he was fine putting it all together when they’d come back, the car boot filled with cardboard boxes, and Marinette had left for work, glancing back to her boyfriend sitting in the middle of the living room beside his toolbox, focused on reading the instructions. She had smiled tenderly at the scene before quietly closing the door behind her. 

When she’d come back that evening, she’d been greeted by one of the dressers in the hallway, which she had to say looked really good. Progressing into the living room, though, she’d found Chat Noir (he’d admitted later that Plagg’s nagging had gotten to him and transforming had been the only way to shut him up) lying on the ground, staring blankly at the ceiling, surrounded by ripped cardboard boxes and screw packets, and a half assembled… thing, for lack of better words, at his feet. He’d just said he hated the Swedes, and she’d laughed, helping him up. They’d worked together the rest of the evening, and finished building everything. They’d been so proud of their achievement that they’d decided to immortalise the moment, and the picture had found its way on the shelf.

She tried placing it back, tilting it so she could see it from her desk, but it fell again. Flipping it over, she noticed that the holding part of the frame was broken.

Marinette frowned. She could distinctly recall seeing the picture out of the corner of her eye the previous week, which meant that the frame had broken since then. Either that, or… She inspected the shelf again, and noticed there was a definite gap on the right of it, which she was sure hadn’t been there before. They had way too many books lying around, shelfless, for the space to be left empty for very long. 

A delicate round-shaped trail of dust jogged her memory. The picture had been leaning on their latest pun jar. Chat Noir was actually holding it in his arms in the picture, as a reminder that they were useful; the contents of one of them had been put towards buying the furniture (they’d opened it as a joke, and ended up being surprised by how much money it contained). They still had four stowed away in their closet, but they kept one in the living room as decoration. 

She wondered what had happened to it. 

Before she could consider investigating the matter, the local church bells struck the hour, startling Marinette. She hurriedly leaned the picture frame on the wall and put her cloth away, before going back to her desk. She’d procrastinated enough for the day, and unfortunately the deadline wouldn’t magically disappear like the dust she’d just cleaned.

\---

She’d been sketching for over an hour when she heard keys rattle characteristically on the landing, making her smile. She’d gotten a little bell keyring for Adrien for his birthday, as a nod to the one he wore as Chat Noir, and a way for her to know for sure it was him on the landing, and not one of their neighbours. The door swung open and Adrien walked in, carrying shopping bags.

“Good evening, Buguinette!” He called out.

“Hello, my love.” She smiled and stretched in her seat. “How was your day?”

“Same old, same old. My students hate me for springing a pop quiz on them, but I’m getting karma for that in the shape of a million papers to grade.”

“Poor Chaton.” Marinette got up and met him in the entrance. She pressed a sympathetic kiss to his lips. “I’m sure you’ll get over it.”

“Only if you help me cook dinner.” He smiled angelically as he picked up his bags and made his way towards the kitchen.

“Fine.” She sighed exaggeratedly, following him. “But only because I love you.” 

“I'm so lucky.” He smiled and kissed her forehead, before starting to unpack the bags. “How was  _ your _ day? Made any progress on your  _ pièce maîtresse _ ?” 

“Sort of.” Marinette toyed with a jar of pickles before putting it in the fridge. Inspiration draughts hit her every once in a while, but this one was particularly frustrating, in the sense that she couldn’t picture anything  _ original  _ for the final outfit the brand would be presenting at the next fashion show. “Nothing I'm completely proud of, though.”

“You're too hard on yourself. I'd wear everything you make with absolute pride.”

“Even the kwami-sized tests?” She asked dubiously. She knew size was the only thing that stopped him from trying on most of the clothing she made.

“Why not? They'd make very original hats. Or gloves, maybe.” He pondered, stroking his chin.

“You’re being silly.” She snorted, mentally picturing him wearing a mini dress atop his head. She bet he'd make it work. 

“Love makes us all silly.” He kissed her temple as he came to stand beside her, some ingredients in hand. 

“Anyway, what did you have in mind for dinner?” She cleared her throat. Years could pass, but hearing Adrien say, or even insinuate, that he loved her still made her blush. 

“Quiche Lorraine, with a side of salad.” He announced proudly, unrolling the puff pastry in the baking tin.

“Sounds delicious.”

“I’m sure it will be.” 

As he mixed the batter, Adrien’s thoughts drifted to the following week, and the Big Event it held. Marinette thought it was just an anniversary. He planned to make it so much more than that. 

Everything was ready in his mind. The setting. The gift (the jars had funded most of it, although he'd had to be stealthy about it). The only thing he still hadn’t pinned down was the menu, although he’d promised Marinette he’d take care of it. She had an important meeting on the same day, again, and he didn’t want her to worry about anything else. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” Her voice brought him back to their kitchen.

“Are you excited about next Monday?” Adrien asked as casually as possible. 

“For our anniversary? Always.” Marinette replied, measuring out the oil for the vinaigrette. “Why? You’re not going overboard with your gift, are you?” She squinted suspiciously.

“Me? Never.” Adrien’s attempt at hiding his grin failed, and Marinette paused.

“Chaton.” She said in a stern voice.

“Buguinette.” He parroted.

“We said we were keeping things simple.”

“And I definitely am.” He poured out the contents of his bowl on the pastry. “But I can’t help but wonder if it’s because you’re already out of ideas for me.” He pouted and batted his eyelashes miserably.

Marinette rolled her eyes. “Of course not. As a matter of fact, I have a great gift for you. And you gave me a new one just two minutes ago. I might even win at gift giving, this year.”

“Are you sure? Don’t go bacon my heart, my Lady.”

“Jar!” Marinette chuckled, opening the oven for him to put the quiche inside. “You’ll love it, I promise.”

_ Not as much as I’ll love it if you accept  _ my _ gift _ , Adrien thought with a smug smile.

“Speaking of jars, do you know where the living room one went?” Marinette asked as she took out the tomatoes for the salad. “I did a little cleaning earlier and noticed it was gone.”

Adrien froze for a fraction of a second, before regaining his cool cat countenance. “I... put it away somewhere safe, with the others. There was a little too much money in it to be left out in the open like that; what if somebody broke in? All my best puns would have gone to waste!” He clutched his heart dramatically. 

“Right.” She snorted.

“Hey, don’t you snigger like that. I’m sure that my puns are what made you fall for me.”

“I thought it was your talent in the kitchen?” She stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek, a mischievous smile playing on her lips.

“That’s just what tilted the scales.” He replied before catching her lips in his.

Marinette refrained from telling him the scales had been long tipped when his cooking skills had emerged. She knew kissing him back would probably bring him more satisfaction. 

\--- 

Ladybug hurried home after her meeting, taking the short way across the rooftops. She’d ended up finding a little inspiration for the design she’d presented that afternoon; her team had been very enthusiastic about it, even if she still believed she could have done better. Maybe she _was_ a little too hard on herself.

Her thoughts as she almost literally flew over Paris were on her evening; if she dawdled, she’d end up being late, which simply wouldn’t do. Adrien had been very secretive about his plans, not to mention a little twitchy. She didn’t know what her favourite cat was up to, but the faster she got home, the faster her curiosity would be satisfied.

She detransformed a couple of streets away from the apartment, following his instructions. She assumed their dinner involved the rooftops, if not being allowed within sight of their building’s told her anything. She smiled in anticipation, and gave Tikki a macaron for her trouble.

“I’m home!” She called out as they crossed the threshold of the flat. There was some noise coming from the kitchen, so she headed towards it once she’d taken her coat off. 

She was about to open the closed door when Tikki zoomed in front of her, making Marinette take a step back.

“Wait!” The Kwami held her arms in front of her. “Adrien really wants to keep things a surprise until the last minute, let me check with him if you can come in.” 

“Okay?...”

Marinette waited as the being disappeared through the door, which opened shortly after. Adrien blocked the way in, though.

“Hey, Bugaboo.” He smiled and leaned forwards to peck her lips. “I’m nearly done, mind giving me five minutes?”

“No problem! I’ll go change in the meantime. Will I be able to go in there at some point, or do I need to ask Tikki or Plagg to bring me something I left in there?”

“I’m guessing you mean this?” He turned around to grab something from the countertop and gave it to her. 

Marinette looked at the gift she’d so carefully wrapped in the morning, and noticed the tape on one end was a little loose. She shook her head.

“You peeked, didn’t you?”

“Maybe,” he said sheepishly. “I’m so sorry, you know I can’t be trusted with presents! It was sitting there all day, so tempting… I paw-mise I didn’t open the box, though.”

“Good thing this isn’t the main gift. You would’ve been a little disappointed, I think.” She turned around and walked towards their bedroom. “Come and get me when you’re done?” She threw him a last glance, and saw him give her a thumbs up before the kitchen door closed again. 

\---

When he’d finally finished his business in the kitchen, Adrien found Marinette standing in front of their bedroom’s full length mirror in a flowy, long-sleeved, red and black polka-dotted dress he recognised from one of her sketches. She was obviously struggling a little with the zip. His breath caught as he admired her, which made her look up at his reflection and smile.

“Perfect timing! Mind giving me a hand?”

She moved her hair aside and Adrien came closer to delicately pull the zipper up, mindful not to have it catch on her skin. He kissed the nape of her neck when he was done, and Marinette turned around, her arms sliding around his neck to press a kiss to his lips. 

“Happy anniversary, Chaton. I don’t think we’ve actually said it today.” 

“Indeed we haven’t. You nipped off like a thief this morning.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Happy anniversary, Buguinette. Ready to go up?”

He let go of her but extended his hand, and she took it, only pausing on their way up to pick up the bags containing their presents and Adrien's blazer.

When Adrien helped Marinette up from the rooftop ladder, she gasped as she took in the setting. 

“Oh Chaton, you've overdone yourself again. It's perfect.” She squeezed his hand.

He'd recreated the layout of their first date to the T, but with amped up flowers -roses; red, pink, yellow, she took them all now- and candles, which peppered the railing beautifully. With the Paris backdrop and the clear night sky, enhanced by lightly sparkling stars, Marinette felt like she’d just stepped onto a movie set. 

Adrien’s gaze softened as he watched her marvelled face, but soon she felt his jitteriness return and took a few steps forwards.

“I think we should start with the presents.” He said excitedly, practically bouncing on the ball of his feet as he followed her to the table and pulled out the chair for her. “Can I open mine first?”

“That’s not very gallant of you.” She teased, handing him her bag nonetheless. 

“I think yours is worth the wait.” He winked and placed a large package on top of her plate, before taking his bounty and going to sit opposite her. 

“Three gifts? For me?” He gasped as he pulled out the bag’s contents and set the packets in front of him. Marinette nodded with a smile. “Which one should I start with?”

“As you wish. Just finish with the smallest one.” 

Adrien didn’t hesitate for long. He picked the biggest one ( _ typical _ , Marinette shook her head with a smile), and tore the wrapping easily. The tape had already been worked on, after all.

“A biscuit tin!” He gasped, shaking the box lightly next to his ear and hearing something rumble inside. “Hm… I wonder what it might be…” He avidly opened it and his smile grew wider as he looked at the contents. “Passionfruit macarons! You know me so well, my Lady.”

“I couldn’t break the tradition and not get you any. It wouldn’t be a proper gift exchange without them, now would it?” Marinette laughed.

“Of course.” Adrien smiled to himself as he delicately placed the box back on the table and reached for the next gift. 

It was a little awkwardly wrapped, and felt quite light in his hands. The shape -a strange pyramid, with an ovaloid base- didn’t give anything away. He ripped the package open, and was greeted with a hat, and not just  _ any _ hat. 

A bowl hat, almost like the one she’d made for him back in  _ collège _ . He ran his fingers over Marinette’s golden, stitched signature on the side, and laughed at the adornment. Perched on top of the it was a miniature dress, one Marinette had made as a trial for one of her designs. It happened to be the exact dress she was wearing.

“You asked for a hat, you got one!” Marinette chuckled as Adrien proudly put it on. “You can even change the displayed outfit, so you can wear all the Kwami-sized designs.”

“And we can match!” Adrien beamed, refraining from mentioning a particular occasion he would definitely be wearing it for. “It’s amazing, thank you, Marinette.”

He reached over to take her hand in his, and tenderly brushed his thumb across her knuckles. Marinette blushed lightly and nodded towards the last packet.

It was a lot smaller than the other two gifts, but Adrien could tell there was something special about it from the delicate tissue paper it was wrapped in, and the way Marinette was nervously biting her lower lip as she watched him open it. 

A leather and red-string bracelet slipped into his hand as he tilted the wrapping. It was the same style as the one she’d given him for good luck what seemed like a lifetime ago, the one he now proudly wore on his left wrist, just above his watch. The charms were different, though. 

A little stone with a carved rose. A wooden umbrella. An onyx cat head. And a little ladybug.

“I… I noticed yours is a little worn out, so I made you a new one.” Marinette said, nervously filling his awed silence. “You can wear both bracelets together, if you’d like, but I’ve also left some space so you can put the old charms on this one as well, if you want. It’s leather-based, because it looks more professional, and also because it’s the two-year anniversary material. I know that’s supposed to be for wedding anniversaries, but I thought it would be a nice nod anyway and…”

She didn’t get to finish her thought. She’d been so busy rambling on that she hadn’t noticed Adrien swiftly getting up, until she was engulfed in his arms.

“Thank you, my Lady.” He whispered in her ear as he held her tight. “It’s purrfect.”

“I’m so glad you like it.” She chuckled in relief.

“Like it? I love it.” She heard him sniffle a little as she stroked his back gently. 

“Does that mean I win at presents this year?” She asked with a smug smile.

“Now, now, don’t get ahead of yourself.” He cleared his throat and straightened up. “Open your present first, then we can talk.” 

“Alright.”

Marinette picked up the packet that sat before her. It was quite large, and shaped like a jar. 

“I think I know what this is.” She smiled. 

“Trust me, it's so much more than what you think.” He dragged his chair closer to hers and leaned his chin on his hands, not wanting to miss a bit of her reaction.

“Is it, now?” She held it at arm’s length. "Is it fragile?"

“Not really.”

She carefully unwrapped the gift, lowkey enjoying watching Adrien twitch in his seat at how slow the process was.

“A new jar! I knew it!” She chuckled as the wrapping paper fell to the floor and she looked at it. It was made of tin, unlike the ones they’d had so far, which had been glass, and adorned with red roses and ladybugs. “It's beautiful, thank you Chaton.” She turned to kiss him, but he moved away.

“If you think that’s the extent of the gift, you’re very mistaken. ‘Tis but the container, my Lady.” He tutted. “As if I’d offer you a simple jar for our anniversary.”

Marinette frowned. It was true that the gift in itself, although a nice inside joke, could not exactly explain how excited Adrien had been about it. She tilted the jar, and heard something softly slide at the bottom, before thumping on the edge of the container. That was odd.

She looked at Adrien inquisitively and he encouraged her to open the lid with a nod. She struggled a little, and felt Adrien tic a little near her, as if he was ready to open it for her if it meant she would see the jar’s contents sooner.

She managed on her own, though, and saw a small, blue velvet box at the bottom of the jar. She felt her heart rate pick up as she took it out. She could think of two things that would fit very well in such a jewelry box. 

Earrings.

Or, maybe,  _ a _ ring.

She held her breath as she opened the box, but quickly let it out. It was empty.

She turned towards Adrien, expecting an explanation.

He wasn’t sitting in his chair anymore. He was down on one knee, as close to a bashful smile as she’d ever seen him sport dancing on his lips as he held out a ring. His green eyes glimmered in the candle light.

“My Lady,  _ ma Buguinette _ , Marinette,” he started, his voice gaining an octave from the emotion. He cleared his throat. “Wow, that didn’t happen when I was rehearsing it. Anyway, I know I promised not to go overboard tonight, but it’s so hard not to, when it comes to you. I mean, just look at tonight; all of your gifts were so thoughtful, and a real trip down memory lane, you went and set the perfect mood for  _ my _ gift and  _ it was all unintentional _ . Marinette, my love, you’re the Sun of my life, the Moon in my night, my hero in and out of costume. You put up with my clawful puns on a daily basis with such grace, even if you do make me pay for it,” he chuckled. “You make everything you touch infinitely better, whether it’s fashion, a dish, me. There’s nothing out there that I feel is worthy of you. I know it probably wouldn’t be reasonable of me to promise you the world, so, tonight, I’m promising you this instead; a lifetime of loving you. Cooking with you, building a family with you, if you want to, of course, growing old with you, taking on everything life will throw at us; you and me against the rest of the world. I wake up next to you every day, and I feel like I’m still dreaming. Will you allow me to be the lucky man who gets to try and make you feel the same way for the rest of his life?”

Marinette’s sight was blurry from the tears, her throat constricted, yet her smile felt wider than she ever could’ve imagined possible. She nodded fervently as she took his face in her hands and kissed him. She tried to make up for her inability to speak with her lips, and Adrien almost dropped the ring as his hands went to tangle in her hair.

“I’m the lucky one, to have you.” Marinette panted a little later when they broke off for air. Adrien seized the opportunity to slide the ring on her finger, but she only had eyes for him. “I love you, Adrien.”

“Me, too, my Lady.” He kissed her nose.

“You know, I think you’re right, you  _ do _ win at presents this year.” 

“Well, technically, it only worked because you said yes, so I guess it’s a shared victory.” He grinned goofily. “But I knew the proposal would do it.”

“Actually, it was the admitting that your puns are bad that really tilted the scales, in my opinion.” She teased, pulling away from him slightly.

“Unbelievable.” He shook his head. “I give you a thoughtful and heartfelt speech to propose to you, and the pun part is what it takes to make me win?”

“I told you, you don’t have to go overboard.” She chuckled and kissed him again. “Joking aside, I can’t wait to cook with you forever.”

“And I can’t wait to have mini us-es running around, driving us crazy.” He whispered, gently pushing a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Although, if they’re like their parents, they’ll cook us dinner and we can just relax.”

“In your dreams, Agreste. It took you long enough to get where you are today, don’t expect your kids to be any different.” She teased.

“What if we call our daughter Ginette, in honour of Ginette Mathiot? Maybe the patronage would help.” 

“Do you hate our daughter?” Marinette sounded mildly horrified. She already had a name planned for their daughter. She might have  _ considered _ altering it, but definitely not for  _ Ginette _ .

“Of course not! What’s wrong with Ginette?”

“It’s an old name!” She got up and started pacing.

“Tell me about it… Marinette.” He smirked, getting up as well. In his head, little Emily “Emma” Ginette Agreste was a carbon copy of her mother. She also perpetrated what seemed to be both of their families’ tradition of giving  _ passé _ names to their children.

“That’s low.” Marinette gasped, turning around to face him. “Okay, Marinette is pretty uncommon these days, but it’s  _ cute _ . Ginette sounds like a grandmother’s name.”

“Relax, Marinette, I’m kitten. I can’t really pass judgement on names; one of mine is Athanase, remember?” He gently took her in his arms.

“All too well.” Marinette smiled begrudgingly. She still occasionally celebrated his fifth name day, especially now they had outgrown the age of Chat Blanc and the threat had vanished.

“So, I think our children should also bear the burden of having weird names. It didn’t hurt  _ us _ , after all… And, well, since Ginette Mathiot has done so much for us…”

“Like what?” Marinette’s eyebrows shot up.

“I don’t know…” He trailed off. “Gave us great recipes for us to cook together?”

“And?” 

“You know what they say… Friends who cook together… End up together?” He grinned.

“I have never heard that saying in my life.” She chuckled, tucking her fingers under the lapels of his blazer to warm them up. “Tell you what.” She stood on her tiptoes, eyes glistening. “I’ll consider it for a second name. No promises on the outcome, though.”

“That’s good enough for me, my Lady.”

“And we can thank her some other way in the meantime; how about we make one of her recipes for our wedding?”

Adrien’s eyes lit up. “Do you think she has wedding cake recipes?”

“There's only one way to find out.” Marinette winked. “But if not, I hear Tom and Sabine's wedding cakes are to die for.” 

“Somehow, I don’t doubt that.” Adrien smiled tenderly, and leaned in to kiss her.

“Yech, already talking about the sweet stuff?” Plagg appeared at their side in a swirl of black, making them jump apart. He was carrying a small plate of  _ gougères _ . “What about cheese, it comes before dessert.”

“You know very well we wouldn’t discuss it without you around. Just like we wouldn’t discuss  _ petits fours _ without Tikki.” Marinette laughed and gave him little headpats as he set the plate down on the table, making him purr.

“Hey, Plagg?” Adrien asked.

“Yes?” the Kwami asked lazily.

“Why did you only bring up four  _ gougères _ ? I made a whole tray.”

“There would have been more had  _ someone _ ’s sappiness been more concise.” Plagg rolled his eyes. “You can only blame yourself on that one, loverboy, you know I’m not good with temptation. Especially when it’s cheese-flavoured.” 

He stole another  _ gougère _ and gobbled it down before making a swift escape. 

“Unbelievable.” Adrien shook his head in disbelief. “I guess this is our cue to eat, else there won’t be anything left.” 

He presented the plate to Marinette before taking one himself, and held his  _ gougère _ up. 

“To our future.” He said very seriously.

“If it’s anything like our past, I can already tell it will be divine.” Marinette smiled and bumped her gougère against his. “Bon appétit, Chaton.”

“Bon appétit, my Lady.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's a wrap on this story! Sorry it took so long for me to post the epilogue, I had trouble finding a good ending... (also, writing proposal speeches is _hard_ ) I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless! Thank you to everyone who has read read and been involved in the _Friends who cook together..._ journey, and special shout out to those of you who have left your thoughts, it really kept me going!   
> I wish you lots of good things for 2021, since it's still the season to do so, and hope to see you around! Lots of love, Elle 💕


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